Spring Day
by silversummerwords
Summary: Because no darkness, no season, can last forever.
1. Spring Day

**Spring Day**

* * *

 _I miss you._

 _When I say that, I miss you more._

* * *

The best month to describe snow in Kalos, would be January. The urban buildings would have blankets of snow over them, some encased in sheets of ice, the sunlight reflecting off the snow crystals and bursting off into iridescent colors that set the region on fire. Indeed, it was a snowy wonderland, and the people adored the month and the scenery that came along with it.

Even so, the harsh cold was proven difficult to deal with, and few could bear to stand in the middle of the white fantasy and watch the beautiful colors. Few lasted over a half hour, and even if they did, they will start complaining of the bitter cold, and finally unable to tolerate the frost biting at their noses, they trudge off begrudgingly back to warmer places.

Meanwhile, along with the streets of Lumiose city, one lone young adult clad in thick layers, waltzed past the shops. The bulbous hood covered his head loosely, and mist emerged from his breaths, like puffs of snowflakes dancing and disappearing into the frigid air. He had no particular direction, and he was aimlessly walking, him already tired of the cold, and for whatever reason that made him left his apartment.

It was winter, and it was January, and Green Oak had absolutely nothing to do this month. He had been all over the place for the last one and a half years, doing fieldworks, cooping himself up in libraries, dabbling in the advanced sciences, writing theses and the bundles of research papers that went along with it, while occasionally battling trainers to keep his sword sharp and polished. Studying under Professor Sycamore was not easy, and Green was satisfied that he managed to earn this spot for himself, instead of always relying on his grandfather's connections.

Yet, perhaps after being too busy for so long, the Professor forced a three-month-long break onto the young man, passed him an air ticket bound to Kanto, instructing him to take the time to go home, visit his family and friends, battle, whatever. Just anything for him to relax and stop thinking about research. And Green was certainly not fine with this assignment given to him.

There were a few reasons why he did not want to go home. First, he had already sent out a hiatus notice, that his Gym was to be temporarily closed for three years until he finishes his studies in Kalos. Second, knowing his grandfather, he would be pulled to the laboratories without consent and as usual, help out the old man's research. Third, there were no battle facilities in Kanto for a highly-skilled trainer as himself, so he would effectively be doing lab work the whole time, and that would defeat the purpose of having this break.

And there is also a fourth reason why.

His footsteps halted, his boots sinking slightly into the dense, white snow, a bitter crunch sounding out. He turned back, seeing the deeply entrenched trail of shoe prints he left in the snow. He sighed, the same little puff of snowflakes leaving his breath once again, and there, he felt his heart being doused with an icy nostalgia. His hands dug deep into his own jacket pocket, and he took out the air ticket given by the Professor.

The flight was tonight.

He sighed again, and there he turned to his left, towards the frosted glass of the toy shop that he had been standing in front of this whole time. The gold lettering embossed on the glass was very much obscured by the thick snow, and Green merely looked past it, his eyes gazing upon a distorted reflection of himself.

Another breath of snowflakes escaped, and Green stared at his reflection for a long while.

He had grown up, his height had hit past six feet, his muscles more toned than before, and for a moment, he felt as if time had passed by him just yesterday. He paused, trying to recollect his memories of one friend, yet it was all a hazy blur of black hair, red eyes, and quietness.

 _Time is so cruel._

His eyes seemed to dim, just a little, and his cracked lips quivered.

He stood there for a long while, puffs of snowflakes running wild in the air. The cold was gnawing at him, but he did not seem to notice. The sunlight was dying away, and when the snowflakes tumbled down from the clouds, did he finally make another step forward, trudging back to his apartment.

He had lasted a half hour in Kalos' wintry streets.

But it was a different coldness he couldn't bear.

* * *

 _How much longing has to fall like snow_

 _For the spring days to come?_

 _Friend._

* * *

The door to his apartment swung open, the hinges creaking, and he entered his living space. He flung his jacket off, shaking away the snow, and unwinded his scarf, then hanging the two articles of clothing onto the coat hanger. The apartment was sizeably appropriate for one man to live in, and it was fairly cozy, although the study was often colder than the other rooms, courtesy to the tiny balcony where the west winds will come blowing. Green then threw his bag onto the couch, his feet bringing him quickly to his study. His head was hurting, probably from the intense cold, and he hated the cold, and all he wanted to do now was to revise the stack of research notes he compiled over the last week. Screw having a break; he was going to continue what he has been doing.

Collapsing into his chair, he groaned, the cold getting to him, worse than ever, and his fingers fumbled for the heater's knob, turning the heat on, high enough to stop his temples from playing those ridiculous beats.

Winter has never been the season for him. So was January. To be honest, winter had always followed him.

Ever since Red left.

Green knew he misses him, and the words "I miss you" constantly resonated inside his head, but he would never say it out loud. Because he hates him. He hates himself. He hates "us". For it has never been "us" ever since he left.

He flipped through the papers, scribbled some notes, in an attempt to focus on his work, but his heart wasn't. In the end, he hated that he left. He hated that it's so damn hard to even see each other's faces.

He hates winter.

He hates that he misses him.

And he hates that it hurts to miss him.

He finally puts down his papers, the heat from the heater not at all trying to alleviate his headache, much less his heartache. He ruffled his own hair, rubbed his neck, and felt his breath hot yet cold and he didn't know what to do.

He stood up, his feet shuffling towards the apartment's tiny balcony. He pushed the glass door open, the freezing winds slapping him in the face, and his headache strangely felt better than before. He stared at the lights of Lumiose, and he stared at the snow that came falling down.

The snowflakes were small, tiny, yet they float, they drift, they fall, and they carried the subtle beauties of winter. And they were the only aspect of winter that Green was okay with. Or should he say, was envious of?

Because if he could, he wanted to be like the falling snowflakes, to perhaps ending his longing for a friend, to end this winter.

Perhaps, if he could be the falling snowflakes, he could reach him, faster.

Faster.

He could feel his sweat turning to frost, the wetness in his eyes sublimating away, and all he could do was to watch the snowflakes, floating, drifting, falling.

How much more does he have to wait?

How many more nights does he need to stay up?

To see him again?

The cold air was howling at him, and miraculously, his head was clear. He lifted his right hand, his fingers numb. He counted the reasons why he did not want to return to Kanto.

There were three.

He then counted the reasons why he wanted to return to Kanto.

There was one.

He clenched the same hand, and he ran into his study. He shut the glass door, the warmth of the heater greeting him. He gasped and headed to his bedroom. He grabbed his empty suitcase, his arms randomly stuffing in some clothes, shoes, whatever he needed. He knew whatever he was doing now was on entirely on impulse, he will probably regret it, or probably hate himself for it.

He flew out his house, feeling as if he was floating, drifting, falling, and there he ran, down the snowy streets of Kalos, footsteps crunching the snow beneath.

He knew what he was throwing himself into. A mindless search. A mindless journey. Probably he'll never find a man who has been missing for four years in just three months.

But he knows that he misses Red.

Too much.

* * *

 _Snowflakes are falling,_

 _Getting farther away._

* * *

It was a bad idea. And this single thought ran through his mind again and again, for days on end, because for two and a half months, he had no leads and no results. He had expected it, and it still bummed him out nevertheless.

He even tried flying off to Johto and Hoenn, spending days in unfamiliar places to find him, yet the search proved fruitless. No one knew where he went, and where did he disappear off to after the Unova World Championships. No one managed to get ahold of him, and Green could feel a little bit of himself dying whenever someone said a "no" to him.

He only had a mere two weeks left of his holiday, and he was more desperate than he thought he will be. He couldn't understand why it was so hard to find one man, when all he wanted, was to see a dear friend again.

He readied his winter boots, covering himself head to toe with comfy, heavy layers, armed with his Pokémon, and from there, he ascended the mountain. To be frank, he didn't have much hope for Mt Silver, considering how cold it was. Its temperatures were worse than that of Kalos' January, worse than Sinnoh's Mt Coronet, and it was no living conditions for anyone. Yet, he wanted to try and scour the mountain, and even if he ends up with nothing, he wanted a sort of mental confirmation that he tried.

After defeating another wild Ursaring, Green could feel the fatigue and freeze creeping up to him. It wasn't easy, but he willed himself to go further up, and up, and up. All throughout his climb, he saw no sign of human life, and he was nearing the summit. He lets out a deep sigh that came out as a dense cloud of fog, while his heart sank a little.

Maybe Red was avoiding him. Maybe. He was just throwing guesses every single time he ends up with nothing, and every time this thought will emerge in his mind, and every time he felt stupid that he was the only one who was trying to find him. Maybe Red never missed him.

Or maybe, he was already long gone from this world.

His foot sank deep into the snow, and there he stood at the cave opening, wondering what he should do next. He looked out, spotting a sizeable gap between the rock walls, and that small bit of hope in his heart glowed brighter, and he gingerly lifted his leg and stepped onto the narrow, crumbling pathway. He stuck his body close to the wall, walking sideways, bit by bit, his heart thumping nervously. The snow was pelting at him, and he tries to ignore the pain while holding onto that tiny bit of hope.

Finally entering the small cave, he collapsed to his knees, tired, cold and hungry. He had to hurry up, but he could not think, as he picked himself up shakily, walking forward into the depths of the small cave. It was warmer here, yet it did not help Green much, for his body was sore, his bones chilled, and he could feel his consciousness going in and out.

Then he saw it.

A small fire pit that was extinguished, sitting there solemnly.

Green found his heart soaring, and he tried to take another step forward, yet before he could do so, his head spun, and his vision blurred. Losing his balance, he toppled to the ground, landing with a muffled thump into the layer of snow. He started panicking internally, because the moment he closes his eyes, it meant certain death. With whatever strength he had left, his fingers reached into his pockets and took out one of his Pokéballs.

But before he could press the release button, his fingers went completely numb, and he lost his grip, the ball rolling away from his reach. And at the next moment, he blacked out.

* * *

 _"Hey, where are you going?"_

 _"..."_

 _"Hey,"_

 _"..."_

 _"Answer me."_

 _"... Somewhere."_

 _"Where?"_

 _"... Somewhere neither of us knows."_

 _"Then when are you coming back?"_

 _"... I won't."_

 _"Then what about me?"_

 _"..."_

 _"Stop leaving me behind."_

 _"..."_

 _"I miss you."_

 _"..."_

 _"..."_

 _"So do I,"_

* * *

Green's eyelids fluttered open, and he stared at the clear blue sky that greeted him for a long while before he sat up abruptly and pinched his cheeks in confusion.

He is alive.

He looked around, realizing that he was none other than at the foot of Mt. Silver, the temperatures warmer and more comfortable than before. He rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. He checked the date, realizing that only a mere twelve hours had passed from the time he started ascending the mountain. He tried to make sense of what had happened, and how he had ended up here, but he couldn't get his head around it. Puzzled, he stood up, and the moment he did so, a small clink rang out, and he glanced down to check whatever had dropped.

His eyes widened, and he tentatively picked the item up. It was small, and he examined it, bewildered and curious.

It was an Earth Badge. Yet it was not quite his Gym's badge. The surface of it was duller and rather aged, its emerald green color evidently not as bright as it should be. And it was different, instead of the gold border it should have, it was silver instead.

He paused, realization dawning on him that this badge, was not from his Gym.

It was the badge when Giovanni was still the Viridian City Gym Leader. And if the man ever gave any trainer any of his badges, there were only two in the whole of Kanto.

Green and Red.

His hand trembled, and his knees fell to the ground with a thud. He buried his head in his arms, while his hand held the badge close to his chest, tears involuntarily flowing down his cheeks without reservation. The waves of relief that washed over him were almost drowning, his muffled sniffs and hiccups on repeat without an end.

"He's alive," he murmured, the two words sending him comfort every single time he spoke of it. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive."

His best friend was alive.

And that was all that it mattered.

* * *

"Green, do pass me that stack of papers over there at the table." Augustine Sycamore called out, while the young assistant turned his head around, staring at the different piles scattered on the tables.

"The papers on behavioral patterns of Chespins."

Green nodded his head, and he then passed the stack to the Professor. The man started flipping through the pages, while Green went back to his seat to look through the microscopic specimens of Zygarde.

"How long has it been, Green?" The Professor asked, his eyes scanning the documents.

"Pardon?" Green asked, his eyes still glued to the microscope's lenses.

"Since you came to Kalos," Sycamore added.

"Two years and ten months," Green answered. "It doesn't feel that long for me though."

"It doesn't indeed," Sycamore agreed. "Time is never enough."

"I suppose." Green laughed dryly, while he jotted a few notes into his notebook.

"So, would you like to stay here longer?" Sycamore suggested. "With a monthly salary provided, of course."

Green found himself merely chuckling at the Professor's idea. "Sounds tempting." He said in return.

"You're too good of an assistant to let go," Sycamore admitted. "I doubt I can find someone else as talented as you in a long while."

"You flatter me, Professor."

"My words aren't flattery, Green. They're facts." Sycamore chuckled. "Well, how about it?"

Adjusting the focus of the lens, the microscope let out a whirring noise, and Green's fingers turned the knob a few more times.

"Thank you, but I'll pass." He finally answered.

"That's a pity," Sycamore sighed. "But you will continue your research, won't you?"

"Maybe," Green said after a moment of hesitation. "I was thinking of battling for a while."

"Ah, everyone's favorite past-time," Sycamore exclaimed. "Oh, pass me that other stack over there, please."

"This?" Green inquired, his finger pointing to another neat stack. The Professor nodded his head, and soon the stack of research papers was delivered to his table.

"Speaking about battling, why don't you try Kalos' Pokémon League?" Sycamore suggested. "They are quite the challenge."

"I did," Green said as he scribbled another line of notes into the notebook. "But they were not a match for me."

"I see," Sycamore lightly commented while he leaned back in his armchair, the man sipping his coffee peacefully. "You must be bored."

"Not really," Green replied candidly. The Professor smiled at the young man's words before he set his coffee down and started to work on the papers.

"Maybe you could try battling the Masked Trainer." The Professor suddenly said.

"Sorry, who?" Green asked his head not at all lifting from the microscope.

"A trainer who has been roaming around Kalos these few months, and it's been said he has never lost a single match. Plus, he became famous overnight for defeating Diantha."

"Huh." He murmured. "Good for him then."

"Uninterested, aren't you?" Sycamore laughed, bemused by the assistant's reaction.

"Well, it's just..." His shoulders dropped, a deep sigh escaping from his mouth.

"Oh, stop fretting." Sycamore scolded. "It gets you nowhere."

"Right."

The two then went back to work, Green continuing with today's checklist. It did not take him long to stand up and walk towards the Professor, his long lab coat billowing from behind him. Passing the notebook filled with observations of Zygarde's cell to the Professor, he waited for Sycamore to scan and study through the list. After some time, Sycamore snapped the book shut, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Good work, as always." He said. "You may leave for today."

"Thank you," Green said while bowing slightly. The young man then headed out of the door, and upon exiting, he lets out a sigh of relief. Taking off his lab coat, he glanced at the sunset that was visible from where he stood. Another day of lab work, and he was tired. Upon reaching the locker room, he hung the article of clothing into his locker, and changed out of his shirt into something warmer, and added on a thick down jacket. Although Kalos' winter was ending, the air was still chilly, and he did not want to risk getting a cold.

After chatting with some of the resident scientists around the lab, Green Oak was quick to exit the Sycamore Lab building, his legs quickly bringing him down the streets. He huffed, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, but he shook the feeling off and continued running straight. He wanted to get back to his apartment quick, for he still hated the winter and the cold that came along with it.

In his haste, he bumped heavily into a figure and fell flat into the snow. Picking himself up, he hurriedly muttered his apologies to the person and picked his bag up from the dense snow. He turned around, ready to leave until the person tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned back, just to see a male, taller than he was, holding out a Pokéball and gesturing towards it wordlessly. He wore rather thin layers while his face was obscured by a white mask, and Green immediately remembered what the Professor had told him.

"Sorry, not interested." He muttered before he swung his bag onto his shoulder. He did not have time for a battle, and especially not in this cold weather.

"It won't take long." The male's deep, muffled voice called out. Green faltered, but eventually, he shook his head.

"Sorry," he answered once again. "You may be resistant to the cold, but I'm not."

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but Green Oak had run off, his figure slowly disappearing into the white, crisp fog. His arm hung down by his side, the Pokéball in his hand gripped tightly.

"I'm not either."

* * *

 _I wanna hold your hand,_

 _And go to the other side of the earth._

* * *

The two children peeked out from one of the bushes, and once noted that the coast was clear, both tumbled out and ran towards the abandoned train tracks. The metal parts were rusty, moss adorning the edges, while the two platforms on opposite sides were quiet and simply waiting for nature to take over. The two chased after one another, excited about being in their sanctuary, in this small abandoned world of theirs.

One boy then climbed up one of the platforms, while the other headed to the one on the other side. They both sat down on the rusty seats, not caring how filthy and dusty it was. The brown-haired boy took out a well-folded paper airplane, throwing it gently towards the other side. The airplane soared across, and time stood still as it did before it finally landed in the hands of the other boy.

"My name is Green." said the brown-haired boy.

The other boy threw back the paper airplane, in which Green caught it easily.

"... My name is Red."

The airplane was returned.

"Where are we going today?"

The airplane flew once more.

"You know it all," Red smiled.

Green caught it and let out a laugh.

"You're my best friend," Green replied. "Let's go anywhere, together."

* * *

 _I hate even this moment that is passing._

 _I guess we changed._

 _I guess that's how everything is._

* * *

He could feel his body shaking, the cameras around him flashing, the shutters closing repeatedly. His hands were numb while he watched the signal of his defeat shown on the screens everywhere in the Championships arena. His Pidgeot was defeated, and in that instant, he felt his world going upside down.

He lost his title of Champion.

He stormed out of the arena, for he knew that the cameras weren't flashing for him. The world was cruel, where no one will ever care for the loser. He didn't even care that his rival was running towards him, trying to reach out to him. He didn't want his sympathy, and he didn't want to admit that he lost.

He exited, getting away from the cameras, away from the public, and his wrist was grabbed from behind. He grunted, shaking away from Red's hand and unable to hold in his fury, his bitterness, he turned around and glared at those pair of red eyes.

"Did you change?" He breathed heavily. "Or did I change?"

Red paused, going even quieter from Green's question.

"I... never wanted this to happen." He murmured in reply. Green could feel his indignance growing, an ugly seed planted and sprouting. He was trying so hard to control himself, to stop his mouth from saying anything else.

 _Don't say it._

But his body was not listening to his head and was merely listening to his heart when he cast another glare at his rival.

"I hate you so much."

* * *

 _Honestly, I miss you._

 _But now I'll erase you,_

 _Because that will hurt less than resenting you._

* * *

Sundays were lazy, but not quite so for Green. He felt inclined to be lazy, but he knew better than to fall into this psychological trap and fail to pack up his stuff before he leaves for Kanto. He had ended his three-year-long scholarship just last Friday, and while Sycamore persistently tried to convince him to stay, he stuck to his decision, deciding to return to his Gym, and just battle for a while.

 _But how long was a while?_

He paused, his hand hovering above the cardboard box that was half-filled. The thought stayed in his mind for a short moment, but in the end, he threw it to the back of his head and resumed placing his clothes properly into the box. He worked quickly, taping the box in one swift motion, and setting it aside to the mini stack of boxes that were placed in the corner of the living room. Swiping the dust off his palms, he then stood up and headed to his study room, the room still full of things he needed to pack.

He dumped the books into another cardboard box and put away his laptop and speakers into another bag. Grabbing the photo of his grandfather and sister, he dusted it gently and placed it into the same box, while from the corner of his eye, he noticed another photo frame that was hidden behind. It laid flat on the wooden top in which the photo could not be seen.

He hesitated, and slowly, he reached out and lifted the photo frame, revealing the Earth badge that laid underneath it. His left hand picked the badge up, while his right held the frame tightly. His eyes were fixated on the badge for a while, and then he shifted his focus to the photo.

And there he was, as a young eight-year-old child, raising a peace sign, grinning cheekily, his left arm around the shoulder of another boy, who had flaming red eyes, and messy black hair. The boy was smiling just a little, looking amused, as he stared straight ahead. Green's heart ached, and he felt time running just a little faster around him as he stared at the photo.

 _I miss you._

Another pang of pain hit his chest, and furrowing his brows, he shoved the photo frame into the box roughly, along with the badge that landed amidst the books with a muffled clunk. He folded the flaps of the box in and pulled a long length of the tape. He shut the box, stretching the tape across, sealing it tight.

And with that, he carried the box, placing it with the undistinguishable boxes in the corner. He did not cast a second glance at it as he resumed his packing up.

* * *

 _I'm blowing out the cold you._

 _Like smoke, like white smoke._

* * *

Snowbelle City was whiter than he'd expected. After settling a few research-related things in this city, he was ready to take the train to get back to Lumiose, to board his flight bound to Kanto. So here he was, at a train station that was in the middle of nowhere.

Time seemed to have turned frozen for Green. He did not know why, but a lonely sense of emptiness accompanied him as he placed his backpack down on the seat next to him. The train station was void of people, with only the station master solemnly sitting in the control room, silently looking out of the window.

He had sent most of his belongings back to Kanto, saved for his backpack, and now he was here, waiting for the train to come in the wee hours of the morning to head for the airport. He hugged himself tightly, folding his arms in and desperately trying to preserve whatever warmth was inside of him. Glancing at his watch, he muttered a few colorful vocabularies, annoyed that he had come too early.

Winter was ending in Kalos, but it is not as if the temperatures were friendly to him; he still couldn't bear the cold. So he hated himself for his dumb decision of waking up early and waiting here for god knows how long.

Yet at the same time, an inexplicable feeling of peace warmed him up, and he almost felt okay that he was waiting here alone, in the midst of the snow, the silence and the winter. He let out a hot breath, which came out as a cloud of mist, and he felt a prickling sensation on his nose. He zipped his jacket all the way up, covering nearly his whole face and swung the hood onto his neck in an attempt to warm his neck and face, while he heard crunching footsteps that sounded as tired as he was.

He scanned his surroundings, noticing a tall man trudging towards the platform across him, his back hunching from the cold. The fog was considerably thick, but Green could make out a striking red scarf winded around his neck that covered nearly half of his face. Green quietly observed him with half-baked interest, even though he couldn't really see how the man looked like from this distance. Perhaps because he was alone, and had a lot of time to kill, the assurance that this man, whoever he was, was here seemed to comfort Green in strange ways.

Meanwhile, he finally stopped before the seats, and the man swiped away the snow that fell onto the white ground with a thud before he sat down, his head hanging down. Green simply watched, for he has nothing else to look at, and this man was interesting enough for him to entertain him for the time being. He was engrossed in something, in which Green didn't know what it was, but he was curious, incredibly so. He squinted hard at the item the man was holding, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He gave out a sigh, scolding himself for being such a busybody in other people's affairs, and slumped down in his seat, while continuing to watch the man.

The man was still, his gloved hands gripping onto the item for a very long while, his figure hunching more and more, looking even smaller and lonelier than before, and at that moment, Green felt his heart ached. A weird emotional connection was present between the two of them, and Green understood what it was. This man was like him, alone, and he had the same if not, similar sentiment as him.

He was missing somebody.

He bit his lower lip, aware of this feeling, but he had decided that he will bury it, despite how impossibly difficult it was. His longing was perhaps dense and thick like Kalos' snow, but he had already told himself that he will make it disappear, like smoke.

The man then looked to his left, staring far off into the distance, perhaps waiting for the train to arrive, and Green followed suit, the young graduate looking in the opposite direction. And his heart ached once more, because the emptiness of the snowy landscape added another layer of ice onto his longing, and he hated it.

He felt a gaze upon him, and instinctively, he turned back, looking straight, and his eyes met the man's eyes. They were on opposite platforms, distances apart, but he just knew that he was looking at him, and he was looking at him. Their man suddenly nodded his head, regarding Green politely. Green awkwardly returned the greeting with a nod, and hurriedly turned away, embarrassed. Yet seconds later, he turned back, finding the man gazing at him intently. Surprisingly, it didn't feel uncomfortable for Green, and they simply looked at each other for a long while, an odd conversation being held between their gazes. Neither could see each other's face due to the cold, and neither knew who the other was, but in this white loneliness, it felt nice that there was someone here.

Green pointed at the man, gesturing for him to introduce himself, in which the man appeared to chuckle for a while. The man reached into his coat's inside pocket, taking out a white mask. He pointed at it, and Green took a while to realize that this man was perhaps the mysterious Masked Trainer. He nodded his head in reply, and the trainer then kept his mask and took out a Pokéball next. Green understood his intentions, and he paused, thinking if he should partake in the man's request for a battle. His hands gingerly reached into his backpack, his head still trying to weigh his options, but the noise of the roaring train came sounding from the distance. Realising that it was time to leave, Green shook his head towards the man, declining his request. The man nodded in understanding while Green carried his backpack and walked closer to the edge of the platform. He nodded his head again towards the man to say his goodbye, and the man did the same. The encounter was short, yet warm, and Green rather enjoyed the little exchange with the man and the odd feeling of familiarity he felt from him. Meanwhile, the train approached and slowed down to a full stop, its doors opening, and in he went, passing his ticket to the train conductor.

The train cabin was small, but there were few people inside, so Green quickly found a seat next to the window. Feeling a little warm from the heater inside the cabin, Green swiftly removed his jacket. The train doors slowly went shut while he looked out, noticing the man gazing up at him.

Suddenly, the man stood up from his seat, getting dangerously close to the edge of the platform, and though alarmed at the man's actions, from this distance, Green could clearly see the man's eyes.

They were red.

Green felt his throat go drier and drier as the thought sank in, and the train engine started running, a rumbling noise reverberating through the train. The man, eyes fixated on Green, had one hand unraveling the red scarf, revealing his face.

At this very instant, Green's heart stopped, his mind going blank, the train starting to move. The trainer was in utter disbelief, his whole body stiff while he watched the man mouthing words at him.

The train picked up speed while Green stood up from his seat, still trying to discern whether whatever he saw was reality or a mere figment of his imagination.

 _"I missed you."_

He gasped, throwing his jacket aside and he desperately ran to the front of the train. His sudden entrance surprised the conductor, who let out a short yelp.

"Stop the train!" He anxiously shouted in French, his shouts alarming a few passengers.

"What's wrong?" The conductor inquired.

"I left something behind," Green answered.

"Well, I can't stop the train for something this silly, young man." The conductor muttered. "I have a schedule to follow."

"Just drop me off, please." He pleaded. "It's something important."

"I told you, I can't." The conductor said firmly. "This is an automatic train and if I were to stop it here with the emergency brake, you're going to screw up the whole train service, cost me my job and create a big mess! Just deal with it, boy."

Green's heart sank even further down, while he then asked, "When will this train reach the next station?"

"Three hours." The conductor grunted curtly.

His heart sank even more. He turned back, not even bothering to say his thanks towards the conductor, his footsteps heavy as he headed back to his seat.

"Don't worry too much, dearie." A soft, elderly voice called out.

Green turned towards the voice, where a wise-looking old lady smiled at him warmly. He felt his face contorting into an ugly frown, a furious expression, a face full of unwanted emotions, not at all capable of returning a smile to the old lady.

"I left a friend behind." He said.

* * *

 _It's winter here._

 _Even in August, winter is here._

* * *

The winds battered hard at his body, and Green grimaced from the hail that came down painfully. His Pidgeot nearly lost its balance as multiple hailstones pelted at it, but it persisted, bravely flying through the snowstorm. Never once has the Pokémon seen its trainer so full of hurt, so full of desire, so full of hope, and it was determined to bring him to wherever he wanted to go.

It has been six hours. The hail was making the trip back difficult, but Green did not care less.

He was there.

His best friend was there.

Desperation nibbled at him, and he panted, tired of being in flight for so long, but also incredibly thankful for his Pidgeot for carrying him. He knew he was reaching, soon, and his heart held onto that tiny flicker of hope.

"Please," he begged out loud, his voice hoarse, his temples hurting from the cold. The wind howled harder, and Pidgeot started descending.

 _Stay there a little longer._

 _Stay there._

They touched ground some ways away from the station, and Green hurriedly returned Pidgeot to its Pokéball and started running at full speed towards the station that was covered with thick, dense, suffocating mist and fog. He didn't even care if the cold was hurting him, nor the fact that his whole body was sore from the ride. Even if this storm were to kill him, he had to get there. Even if the snowflakes are falling, even if they were getting farther away. Even if he can't be the falling snowflakes.

All he wanted was to reach him faster.

He climbed up the empty platform, his arms parting the fog, his eyes searching for his figure, his red scarf, his red eyes.

The platform was empty.

He sank to his knees, his heart hitting rock bottom. He wailed, sobbed and cursed at this irrational world, at this irrational snow and at this irrational winter that dashed all his hopes away once again. The hail hit harder and the same roaring noise of the train came, reminding him once again the cruel truth.

Winter is still here.

* * *

 _I say that I'm gonna erase you._

 _But actually, I still can't let you go._

* * *

The first time Green realized he was drifting away was when he was eight. The changes seemed to arrive subtlely, but perhaps, he had always been painfully aware of these changes.

In the end, they were different.

Like fire and water.

Like light and dark.

Like Red and Green.

He was jealous of his opposite. He was jealous, of how his childhood friend would constantly be ahead of him and recognized to be more of a prodigy than he is. He was envious, of the fact that his friend had the love and care of a mother, the attention of his strict grandfather, the talent he will never have. He would always be so bitter whenever he stood next to him, so bitter of how much better his friend was than him.

He didn't want to show it. He didn't want to show his weakness, his jealousy, and his envy. Because he wanted to stand next to his friend, proudly, and prove to everyone that they were equals.

Yet he was far away, too far away.

So he pushed him away. Further away.

"You're a freak." He said with a tongue of lies. The young boy stood with the bullies, eventually becoming their leader, always taunting the friend he never wanted to leave. And he would call him names, laugh at his red eyes while being all so guilty for the actions he never meant to commit. He buried the innocent memories he made with his friend and convinced himself that it was Red's turn to be the one who chased him.

It was all his wishful thinking.

Because all along, he had been the one chasing after that lonely back, after that boy who he shunned away because of his own loneliness.

"I hate you so much." He had said to him.

And all Red ever said was "I'm sorry" and he was silent and never spoke a second word. And Green hated himself. He hated himself for saying those unforgivable words, doing those horrible things when they were children, and he hated his egotistical self who broke the precious bond they shared together.

And he wanted to apologize and tell him the words he had always kept deep inside his heart.

* * *

 _Like a small piece o_ _f dust_

 _That floats in the air._

* * *

It was cold.

Green donned his windbreaker, his boots sinking into the deep puddles of water as he ran. The rain hit hard at him, unrelenting. Kanto's weather has been packed with torrential rain and humid temperatures, and dealing with that wasn't easy. Eight months of handling his Gym since returning to Kanto was also difficult on his shoulders, and the young man was seriously considering on abandoning his Gym and getting back to research. Professor Sycamore surely won't mind.

That said, Green was mentally exhausted, and he couldn't bring himself to go to Kalos. For he didn't want to tolerate the cold any longer. Not any longer. He declared this emotion of his as incurable and ill-fated, the young man too lethargic to search for new remedies to heal it.

Kanto's summer couldn't thaw it, immersing himself in research and battling couldn't break it, even the pelting rain can do nothing to it, and so he left the emotion frozen and uncared for.

He slowed down, his hair already dripping wet, and he stared at the reflection of himself in the deep puddles, his face distorted by the ripples.

"I'm sorry," He choked, his reflection distorted even more by ripples that weren't created by the rain.

"I'm sorry," And he sees his reflection displaying the hole of regret in his heart.

He stood in the rain, waiting.

And waiting.

"Can we go back to how it was?"

The rain poured harder, and Green Oak was soaked throughout.

It... was cold.

* * *

 _If I wait for a little longer,_

 _If I stay up a few more nights,_

 _I'll go see you,_

 _I'll go pick you up._

* * *

"... Hey, would you like to have a battle with me?"

It was perhaps, one of the most random requests Green had in a long while. He had been spending his one-day break in Saffron, and while it was normal for Gym Leaders to be challenged to battles in public, this was usually not the case for Green. The Viridian City Gym Leader is way too strong for Kanto, and only the bravest dared to approach him. He didn't mind it, really, for he could walk out in public without too much of his time taken up by battles, but truthfully, he felt rather bored that no one would try to entertain him. So when this man came to him, he had stoned there for a moment, pleasantly surprised. He didn't decline the challenge, but he spent a good minute studying the tall and strange man. Though the weather wasn't exactly hot, it was definitely not the right temperatures for someone to wear such thick clothing. Plus, he wore a mask that hid most, if not, all of his features. Wearing masks have been getting popular among trainers nowadays, and up till now, the Gym Leader still did not understand how was the accessory look trendy on a person's face.

"Aren't you warm in those layers?" He asked off-handedly. The man froze as if this was the first time he had heard this question. But Green said nothing, for he himself had undergone the same awkward situation two years ago when he just returned from Kalos. The habit of wearing thick clothing was hard to cure.

"I've been cold for the longest time," The man said, keeping his coat into his bag. "I never noticed."

The two trainers then went off to find a public arena and standing on opposite ends of the court, both readied their Pokemon. A sizeable number of people have gathered, curious and excited about the upcoming battle.

"I won't go easy on you," Green said.

"... You never did." The man replied, taciturn, and Green paused for a moment, confused by his words. Yet, he threw the thought he had in his head away and proceeded with the battle. The audience watched closely, marveling at Green's tactics and the strength of his Pokémon. And what they were more impressed by, was the masked trainer who was able to battle on par with Green Oak.

And Green was perturbed, he truly was. He couldn't understand how could this man read through his moves this well, and neither could he understand why he himself could read his moves this well. The man's Pokemon were tough, as tough as his own, and he felt this strange sense of déjà vu that confounded him greatly.

"Don't go easy on me," The Gym Leader found himself saying. His chest was warm, the cold within him seemingly surging up in his body, excessive sadness assaulting him without context. His heart was incongruous with his emotions, and he felt time running just a little faster.

"... I never did." The man said, throwing out his last Pokémon.

* * *

The battle ended as a draw.

It lasted for nearly three hours and the unexpected match had exceeded and perhaps betrayed, all expectations. Green slowly walked towards his opponent, his footsteps heavy, his chest whirling all sorts of emotions, the corners of his eyes feeling exceptionally hot, and he reached out to grab the man's large hand.

And when his hand gripped hard at the man's palm, the coolness to it was contradictorily warm. He bit his lip tightly, feeling his heart being squeezed, the coldness in his chest exploding, and he felt himself trying so very hard to stand his ground.

"... That was a good battle," The man said as he released his grip.

"Yes," Green breathed, the words difficult to get out. "Yes, it was."

"And I believe that," The Gym Leader continued, his hand reaching into his pocket. "This belongs to you."

Green Oak pressed the Viridian Gym Badge into the man's palm and folded his fingers in. The man seemed to freeze for a moment, his masked face facing Green, his breath cut short. He then gripped the badge tight while nodding his head.

"The usual place," The man whispered in a soft voice, and Green tried to nurse the cold that was decreasing greater in temperatures. Soon, the man turned around and disappeared into the crowd. Green felt his knees going weak, but he stood there, in the center of the practice arena. He held his head high, a cool spring air sweeping past him.

His winter is ending.

Spring is coming.

* * *

 _The morning will come again._

* * *

He emerged from the bushes, and swiping away the dead leaves that were stuck in his pants, he made his way forward. The creaky metal train tracks were largely devoured by moss and weeds, the gaps thick with grass and nature. The platforms opposite of each other no longer had any sign of the concrete pillars, the slanted roofs dripping with ferns and plants, and the sound of cicadas resonated throughout the abandoned tracks. It was a small world in its own, a world Green had not visited in a long while, a world that was never complete with him alone.

He climbed up the steps of the platform, his shoes sinking into the soft moss. He then found his usual seat, and he sat there, staring ahead. He brought no paper, no plane, and he softly said, "My name is Green."

"... My name is Red."

The cold was dissipating, so quickly that it hurt. His hands curled up, gripping tight on his pants, as he felt teardrops landing on the back of his palms.

"I hate you," Green muttered. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

"... I know," He answered. "So do I."

His hands trembled, as he mustered another breath.

"I hate you."

"... I hate you too."

"And, I'm sorry,"

"... I'm sorry too."

He gazed up at the man who sat on the platform opposite of him. His black hair was as rowdy as ever, his figure much stronger-looking than before, and he was definitively taller. A small mask was cradled in his arms, a small familiar photo held tightly with his large hands. Eyes of a red ruby color stared straight at him, and his eyes were wet.

"Can we... go back to how it was?" Red said softly, timidly, and Green felt his heart being liberated. Those regrets, those scars he held, seemed to cry out. He buried his face in his hands, sobbing like the child he had left behind, all the while saying, "Yes, yes, yes."

Amidst the tears, at that moment, he felt that he become the snowflake, the snowflake that had been drifting for so long, the snowflake that has finally reached his best friend. His best friend, who he had left behind. His best friend, who left him behind.

"I missed you too," He shouted, loudly, clearly, in the middle of this world of theirs, in this world that is finally complete.

* * *

 _Because no darkness,_

 _No season,_

 _Can last forever._

* * *

 **The End**

* * *

 **Author's Note*:**

 **One of the toughest, if not, the toughest story I wrote in a long while. Greatly inspired by BTS' song on friendship, of the same name, which has the most heart-wrenching and hopeful lyrics I've ever heard. Initially, I wanted this to be a chaptered story, but now I've decided to make it a one-shot, and I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.**

 **I may perhaps write an epilogue if I happen to feel like it.**


	2. Crystal Snow

**Crystal Snow**

* * *

 _The two of us are already far apart._

 _How can I be closer?_

* * *

The fire crackled, tiny flames sputtering, dying away in the middle of the harsh cold. Drops of melted ice landed into the hearth, and the flames flickered, even more, the heat assimilating with the temperatures. He stepped forward, kneeling down and he gently coaxed the flames back to life. He then sat back down, propping his leg up, eyes fixated onto the stone walls, where little scratches, frosted by white crystals, could be seen. He counted it, one by one until he realized that some time ago, he had already lost track of the number of days he has spent in this lonely cave.

He stood up, feeling a warm chill coursing through his veins, and perhaps, in an attempt to ward it off, he'd decided to counter it. With a far greater coldness capable of numbing his senses. Walking out of his cave, the hail did not spare him. Yet he deftly climbed down, into the small alcove of the stone wall, unharmed and perfectly adapted to the harsh geography.

And there he walked through that small crack, into the big expanse of the far larger cave. The area was blanketed with thick snow that piled as high as turrets, the white shining off it as sparkling crystals of light. A bleak wind hollered at him, and he did not bat an eye towards it, choosing to force his way through the freezing temperatures.

His Charizard was quick to sweep away the wild Pokémon, and he managed to get to the edge of the cave in no time. He glanced at the draconic creature, who nodded its head enthusiastically.

He then crawled through the large hole in the wall, landing himself into a bush of berries. And there he slowly worked, his gloved hands picking up the frosted delicacy and filling up his warm pockets.

Everything he was doing now, has been part of the normalcy of his life. He established this way of life four years ago, in a bid to disappear from the public.

And erase himself from him.

The chill in his heart blew, and he bit down his lower lip, still not yet accustomed to this pain that would come across him every once in a while. He said nothing, as always, but in his head, he was cursing himself, cursing at his heart that didn't seem to beat the way he wants it to.

Done with the berry-picking, he stood up, facing straight at the stone wall, at the thin ice that spread itself across the wall. It was fully reflective, and it has been a while since Red had come face-to-face with his own reflection.

He remarked in his own head on his odd look. His rowdy black hair that never behaves, his thinning coat that was losing its purpose the more he wore it, and his bulky looking figure built up from all these years on the mountain. He changed so much, and at the same time, he didn't.

 _How would he look like now?_

The ice mirror immediately reflected his thoughts, a faint figure of a boy appearing within it. Green eyes, light brown hair, and an unforgettable smirk tilted on his lips. The chill in his chest worsened, and he frowned in response to it.

"Time is so cruel," a raspy voice spoke, and he jumped, puzzled that he was still capable of speaking with the organ that is supposed to have fallen into disuse all those years ago.

He shook his head, and zipping his pockets shut, he climbed back to the other side of the wall. Charizard greeted him with its nuzzle, and it swiftly chomped down on the handful of berries Red provided. As it licked away the jam on its snout, it sent a curious gaze towards the trainer, surprised that the young man's body was shivering.

Red pulled his coat closer to his body, even though it wasn't all that useful.

The frigid winter wasn't enough to mask the chill in his heart, after all.

* * *

 _There is no single star in this snowy sky,_

 _Oh,_

 _Someday,_

 _Someday_

* * *

The unstable seats were shaky, the concrete was mossy, and the tracks were empty. The young boy with the red eyes dangled his legs, eyes staring into the distance, towards the edge of the empty tracks.

He shifted his focus to the opposite platform, heart falling when his familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you hiding?" He called out, his voice echoing between the trees, the platforms, the train tracks. His best friend was not found, no matter how loud he called out.

"Where are we going today?" He asked. But all that answered him were the cries of the cicadas and the clouded sunlight. There was no paper airplane, there were no introductions, there was no Green Oak.

His legs stopped dangling, his red eyes watching the empty platform, hands gripping around the edge of the eat.

Perhaps tomorrow, he thought.

Tomorrow, tomorrow.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

But Green never appeared.

"Where are you?" He called out, distressed and forlorn.

No one answered him.

"The train isn't coming," He lamented. "The train won't come if you are not here."

"Where do we go?" He gasped, tears flowing down his cheeks. The boy was lost, so lost within their sanctuary. So lost in this world of theirs that had started snowing.

The snow was building, bit by bit, the layers getting thicker and thicker. It was getting colder and colder, and the boy, abandoned along with the train tracks, crouched down onto the floor, sobbing.

"Where do I go?"

* * *

 _The world moves faster than we thought._

 _How are we going to change it?_

* * *

He often wondered, how long has it been since he left? And most of the time, he would ignore the question he posed himself, perhaps a little too forcefully.

Was he guilty of something? He didn't really know. But there was one thing he was certain: he never regretted resigning himself from his Champion position.

When he first made a name for himself in Kanto, his life had changed drastically. From being a country boy treated as a freak with red eyes, to a celebrity surrounded by people vying for his influence. He relished the attention for a while but soon realized that everything was a farce, a fantasy that was hiding darker human emotions and intentions. It sickened him greatly, so he was quick to put himself down and distance himself away from those people.

Not many people saw him for who he is.

Even that one person who truly did had left a long time ago.

He slowly played with the dancing fire in the pit with a cold, dry tree branch. The crackling of flames momentarily distracted him from his thoughts, a part of him feeling cold, a part of him feeling warm.

 _I miss you._

The same words intruded inside his head once again, dousing him with cold temperatures. They were words directed towards his only best friend, who had been a painful missing piece in his life. He wasn't sure whether he should even call him a friend anymore, much less a best friend. He wasn't even sure if he was considered to be a friend by him anymore.

He hated all these questions, these unnecessary suspicions he has in his mind. They don't matter at all now anyway.

Falling flat onto the cold stone floors of the cave, he stared up at the blank ceiling. His vision was slowly blurred, by the little puffs of cold air that he breathed out, and slowly, he closed his eyes.

Not a single human soul was beside him, and all he had, was a team of creatures, nothing more, nothing less. He should be satisfied with it. He really should.

But he wasn't.

In the end, he misses Green Oak.

In the end, he craves for someone who could see him for who he is.

In the end, he is alone.

He sat up, staring off into blank space as always. It was a periodic behavior of his, himself disconnecting from the world momentarily, to hide from this world that no one can catch up to, no one can change, and no one can save. This was probably a sort of survival instinct, to sink into a small world of his own, to disregard the fearsome world surrounding him, the world that changes without stopping for anyone.

After a long moment of silence and blanketed solitude, he stood up, his feet scraping the ground roughly. He didn't have anything in mind right now. He didn't know what to do.

He felt stagnant. Stagnant in this pathetic, protected world of snow and ice.

Upon extinguishing the fire, he forced himself to head out, into the colder parts of the mountain, into those tiny little areas that were reserved for him alone. He found his spot, thick layers of snow blanketing a flat boulder, and there he sat, staring into the white fantasy of this unmoving landscape, the white that seemed to reflect his current self.

He was absolutely blank.

 _What changed?_ He wondered as he grabbed a handful of snow that melted away the moment they touched the heat emanating from his palms.

 _What changed?_ Honestly, he should not be asking anyone such a boring question. Honestly, he already knew the answer.

Red changed. He developed his talents, he grew stronger, he bested everyone else.

Green changed. He developed his talents, he grew stronger, he bested everyone else. All except for Red.

And the trainer knew very well that his best friend had grown to become jealous, to become spiteful, because humans are prideful, and Green Oak is not an exception.

He gritted his teeth, the invisible scars on his body coming back to haunt him, and he hugged himself tighter, trying to rid those horrible memories. Memories of being bullied, ridiculed for his odd looks and ostracized by the other children.

And Green was his only solace.

Supposedly.

Yet his only friend, his best friend, left him, joined the gang of bullies and by a twist of fate, became their leader.

"You're a freak!"

His words, even after so long, was like a knife entrenched in his heart, unable to pull out, constantly hurting him.

Constantly bleeding.

Like the red of his name.

And Red changed. He feared the friend who left him out of jealousy. He feared to confront the friend who so obviously was trying to break their friendship. Most importantly, he feared that Green will hate him even more.

So as the coward as he is, he hid. Afraid to try to reach a friend who was as afraid as he is, afraid to mend a friendship which was obviously so easy to mend all those years ago.

It was a childish jealousy. It was a childish fear. And he chose to ignore them, and ignore all the opportunities that presented themselves, for him to reach out to that one friend and fix their breaking bond.

Now the crack between them was a chasm. Deeper. Farther. Colder. More than ever.

Perhaps, if they had just paused in their hasty footsteps, and turn around to face each other for once, just perhaps, things would not have turn out the way they are now.

He fell back, body laying on the thick slab of snow. The white was wrapping him, sinking him in, the cold swallowing him. The sensation of dying was powerful enough to tear him away from his thoughts.

If his time has stopped since long ago, he could simply end it. He could just fall asleep here, and never wake up again. Never think about all those scars. Never think about Green Oak.

 _I miss you._

Springing up from the snow, he wheezed, and frantically, he wiped the snowflakes off his face and shook away the lumps of snow off his hair.

"Ugh." He muttered, hands hugging his legs, head buried into his knees.

He hates himself.

He hates that he misses him.

He hates that it hurts to miss him.

He sat there for a good long while, cold, tired, but perfectly alive, and he did not know whether he should be glad about it. Being alive was tough, and missing his best friend was even tougher.

He slid down the mound, wiping away few tears leaking from the edges of his eyes, and slowly, dejectedly, he wound his way back to his living quarters. As he walked on, he made a mental note to himself.

He would throw away all his longing into that chasm between them. Throw it, leave it, and forget about it. Give it up completely and continue to live like the pessimist like he is now. He is Red. He needs no company. He needs no friends.

He needs no Green Oak.

Entering the cave, he was ready to light a fire, to warm himself up, and forget the cold. Yet, he found himself frozen to the ground, mouth hanging open, pupils dilating the moment he saw a person, slumped at the main entrance of the cave.

Light brown hair sprinkled with snow. A pale, familiar profile.

His chest tightened, and with large steps, the ex-Champion rushed over, arms turning the man over. And in his mind, he was half-expecting, half-wishing, and when he laid eyes onto a familiar yet unfamiliar countenance, his heart soared, then sank.

"Why...?" He said, his voice shaking. "Why are you always here... when I don't need you the most?"

His arms held onto the unconscious man, who just so happened to be the man he hates the most, and the man he misses the most.

And there he sobbed, one hand gripping tight onto Green Oak's, just like those days when they would hold hands and rush into their world of adventures and innocent dreams. Those days, when the world was less cruel, less changing and less cold.

No matter how hard he tries, in the end, he misses Green.

The best friend who was always there when he needed him most before they drifted apart.

* * *

 _We don't know yet, but for sure we will._

* * *

Before he knew it, they were at the foot of the mountain, and Red set the unconscious man onto the soft grass. It was much better to bring the man down as soon as possible to save him from hypothermia, then to spend minutes trying to build a fire that would probably be too weak to sustain the heat. This, and another reason.

Red sat down, staring at the man who was now unmoving and quiet. He has questions, plenty of questions, and to be frank, he did not know where to start. If anything, there was one he could start with.

Why was Green Oak on Mt. Silver?

He scratched his head, seriously trying to seek for an answer.

The man was clearly trying to search for something. No one would spend so long on the mountain of death for any other reason, other than to die. And Red was certain that Green did not come all the way up nearing the summit of Mt. Silver to die. He is Green Oak. His pride would never allow it.

But what? What was it that was so important for Green to risk his life to find it?

Red glanced over at the haversack next to him, and gingerly, he put his hand in, and before long, he was rummaging for whatever could give him a clue on the reason for Green's trip.

There was not much, and the only thing that appeared remotely useful was a notebook.

He flipped it open, only to see pages of complicated equations, biological drawings of strange Pokémon, and messy annotations to diagrams. A small smile spread across his lips, and he skimmed through the contents. He expected no less from the man.

Then he flipped to the last entry, only to be greeted by a flurry of strikes and markings on a small map of Kanto, Johto and other regions. He counted the strikes, which totaled up to nearly seventy-five days, and looking at the map, he was stunned at the number of places that were crossed out.

And the only red dot that remained, was Mt. Silver.

He quirked an eyebrow and then proceeded to flip through the remaining pages, hopefully, to find something meaningful. However, most of the pages were blank, and when he flipped to the last page, a small photo slipped out of the book.

He picked it up, turned it over, and the cold immediately churned inside him, spreading through him, like snow that was piling on him, burdening him. Reminding him of the scars. Reminding him of the happiness he lost.

It was a picture of them as kids. A picture of them when they still have their friendship. Eyes beaming, arms around each other's shoulders, two boys, side by side.

Clicking his tongue, Red shoved the photo between the pages, slapped the book shut and threw it back into the haversack. He had enough. He hated Green Oak. And he will erase him from his life even if it's the last thing he'll do.

And he was so ready to leave. He did his part. He merely saved a man who was dying. He need not think any further.

Then he paused, retracing his steps, and he was now standing next to Green Oak, furious at the man, and furious at himself.

"I hate you...," He spat. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

"You left me behind, you hurt me, and now you think that you can just waltz into my life and expect me to forgive you?" He yelled, temples throbbing. "You called me a freak, said you hated me, and you think you can just get what you want so easily?"

"I was lonely," He continued to scream, not even caring that this man that laid before him would never hear a word he is saying. But he needed to vent it out, to vent out all these years of loneliness and painful longing. "I was so lonely here, and I missed you so, so much, and I gave up! I gave up totally on trying to see you again, and you just have to barge into my life like this."

He panted, tired from the sheer amount of words he was saying. He had never said so much in his whole life, and the stress it gave was scary. But he did not care. He had to say it.

It wasn't as if he never tried. He did. That one time after the Championships, he had finally picked the courage to reach out to his rival, to the boy named Green Oak.

 _"I hate you so much."_

He tried to build a bridge, only to have it destroyed by the hands of the person he wanted to connect it with.

And there was no reason why he should give Green Oak the chance.

"If...," he breathed. "...By any chance, you were here to find me, leave." He reached into the back of his vest, taking out his Earth badge and placing it onto the man's chest. "With this... you and I are through."

With that, he walked off, no longer turning back, while desperately trying to hide the trembling aching of his heart.

He hates himself.

He hates himself for being unable to forgive Green Oak.

* * *

 _Now we can't choose the paint that colors us._

 _Even the black breath,_

 _Even your thick white fog._

* * *

He left Mt. Silver faster than he thought.

He was aware he was running away. Running, and running, and refusing to attempt to grab that hand that was seemingly reaching out for him.

He decided to go elsewhere and wander around because if he wanders, it will decrease his chances of being found. Even if it has been more than a year since that incident, he continues to wander.

He'd wear a mask to be as low-key as possible, and battle people, because that was what he is good at. Battles earned his keep to move around places, like Unova, and currently, Kalos.

He only arrived here days ago, and its wintry streets reminded him strangely, if not, fondly, of Mt. Silver. It was white. It was cold. And most importantly, it was lonely. As if people like him had been walking along the streets, pouring out loneliness everywhere.

And he was not wearing much, thanks to his lack of funds to purchase thicker clothing; he traded off most of them when he started his wanderer lifestyle. But he had built up a pretty strong immunity against the cold during his days on Mt. Silver, so it did not really matter to him in the end.

The sun was slowly dipping into the horizon, and with a neutral expression, Red watched it sink gently. He slowly took in the atmosphere, the gorgeous scenery presented before him, and he was slightly glad that he had left the mountain.

A person suddenly bumped into him on the shoulder, and he swung around, just to see a man with light brown hair falling flat into the snow, clearly to have lost his balance from the impact. Seeing it as a chance to earn some bucks, Red swiftly took out his Pokéball, ready to challenge the man to a battle.

But when he saw the man's face, he immediately regretted his decision.

"Sorry, not interested." Green Oak replied, and Red was supposed to be relieved. He was supposed to.

"It won't take long." He blurted out, and he was almost shocked at his own words. He saw Green hesitating, and in his head, he was conflicted at his own emotions.

"Sorry," Green said in return, and Red could feel his heart sinking more than he realized. "You may be resistant to the cold, but I'm not."

Red opened his mouth, wanting to say something in return. But Green Oak had run off, his figure slowly disappearing into the white, crisp fog, leaving the confused man trying to sort out his thoughts, and to tackle the freezing, wrenching feeling twisting in his heart.

He then understood that he was disappointed. Such pains were not foreign to him, and he knows that. He had experienced it so many times on Mt. Silver, so many times as a child, so many times after Green had made his unannounced arrival in his pathetic, protected world.

His world that was so predictably breakable. Like snow crystals.

He hung his arm down by his side, fingers gripping onto his unopened Pokéball. He wanted to shoo away these thoughts in his head, to forget about it. But finally, he gave in, because he knows all the rejection, all the denials, all the self-made excuses were never enough.

All this time, he had been lying to himself. Lying, hiding, and shunning away. Self-justifying that Green Oak deserved it, that he should let the man have a taste of his own medicine.

Humans are prideful creatures.

And Red is no exception.

In the midst of it, he was doing all of this out of spite, out of needless resentment. And in the process of doing so, he rejected his heart and the self that had always wanted to build the bridge between them, no matter how tough it was.

The cold rushed through his body, and he shuddered.

"I'm not either." he gasped.

* * *

 _Words aren't enough to express my feelings,_

 _But I will tell you._

* * *

Red really could not understand himself.

Despite admitting to himself that he cannot carry this on any longer, he was still wandering aimlessly in Kalos, like a man without road signs, because truly, he did not have any. He could make the effort to find the man, but it was what followed that was troubling him.

What should he say to Green Oak?

What do they do after that?

He tried to go online to search for accounts of people who had once faced or is facing the conundrum he was undergoing. But throwing in the phrases "broken friendship" and "reconnection" into the search bar did wonders that were not that wonderful, in his opinion.

Meanwhile, people were looking strangely at the masked man who was standing in the middle of the busy street, mumbling to himself strange 'hello's in different notes.

"Battle me!" An old man cried out, momentarily breaking Red away from his thoughts, and his weird monologues.

And so, he did.

A stream of trainers soon followed, each and every one of them eager to battle him, and Red was awfully tired of it. Now that he thought about, he had won against another trainer a few weeks back, and she just so happened to be the Kalos Champion. The match blew up in the news, and Red had learned the lesson to pick your opponents wisely. He could try to put up with the ongoing attention, but at this rate, he'll be wrung dry by the end of it.

So, he decided to escape to a remote part of Kalos temporarily until all the hullabaloo dies down, before resuming his search for Green Oak. By the recommendation of a local innkeeper, he was quick to get to Snowbelle City and secure a place to stay. And in the meantime, he'll agonize over his current troubles.

While Snowbelle City is not as freezing as Mt. Silver, it is still cold enough for Red to think rationally and purchase a full set of winter clothing. Boots, gloves, and everything. He wore it every day of the week while he did some sightseeing around Snowbelle, and get buried in the snow now and then.

It was a good break, he thought. But the cold was still lingering like a ghost beside him, and he knows that he needed to get rid of it. He had to continue to build the bridge. To reach out to him, to finally hold his hand. Maybe, he'll think about what he wants to say after that.

So, in less than two months, he was ready to leave Snowbelle, to some other place in Kalos that he could not quite remember the name of. He just needed to get the hell out of the cold, and find Green. It was on the top of his to-do list, and he'll have it done and ticked.

He did not bring much, only himself, and a few personal belongings that fitted in his pockets. Trudging through the snow, he was lethargic, both in spirit and body, because no matter how hard he tries, him missing Green Oak was a difficult emotion to handle, and he knows that he has been tired all the while. Battling others, winning against the Kalos Champion, and the sudden rise in his popularity were simple distractions from his pained heart, from his cold tears.

Reaching the train station, he walked towards the seats, knocking off the pile of snow on it, and sat down, grunting. Digging into his pockets, Red fished it out, and he stared at it, almost wanting to laugh at himself.

Even though he wanted to cut off all his connections with Green Oak that day by leaving behind one of the very last things the two had in common, it came to him as an irony that he himself had been keeping a copy of the photo in his very own backpack. Since day one of their separation.

Such a joke, he realized. Both of them, in the end, held the same sentiments, yet the misunderstandings, timidity, and hostility that piled up like snow barred them from reconnecting with each other, and Red truly wanted to curse himself, at his own stupidity for not realizing it sooner.

He hunched his shoulders, trying to bandage the cold in his heart that was reflecting all the emotions whirling and spinning inside him like a washing machine. Words spinning and spinning inside that were piling up like forgotten clothes, clothes he should have worn, he should have shown and should have said.

He looked up, wanting to distance himself from everything for a moment, and he looked to his left, checking if the train was coming anytime soon. But all that was before him was empty train tracks and a sea of white.

It reminded him of the train tracks of his childhood. The train tracks where he would play with his best friend, talk to him about everything and promise to travel everywhere with him. And the reminder pricked him, pulsated inside of him, guilt-tripping him. And he was scared all of a sudden.

What if, just what if, Green no longer wanted to see him again?

He rejected the man by discarding away his Earth badge and had rejected all of his efforts by disappearing away into obscurity. He would not be surprised if Green Oak shunned him away and shoot at him with words of hatred once again.

He turned his head back, facing the front, and there he saw someone at the opposite platform, looking towards the other side. The person was covered from tip to toe with thick winter clothing, making him look rather bulky. Red would have chuckled at the appearance of the man, had he not realized that he himself was in the same state.

Then the man suddenly turned his head, eyes meeting his, and Red felt a queer feeling of familiarity. He nodded his head awkwardly, thinking that he should at least be polite after rudely staring at the man like that. And to his surprise, the man nodded back, before looking away hurriedly, clearly as weirded out as he is.

But it did not take long for him to turn back, and as they looked at each other, Red found himself comforted by the man's presence, his silent gaze that regarded him kindly so oddly similar to how Green Oak once looked at him.

The man then raised a finger and pointed at him, gesturing for him to introduce himself. Red chuckled, hand reaching into his coat, and taking out his well-worn, famous mask. The person leaned forward, squinting a little, before nodding his head in acknowledgment of his identity. Red smiled, and kept his mask, before his fingers wrapped around a small red-white capsule.

Well, it wouldn't hurt to challenge this man for a battle.

The man, in response, slowly reached into his adjacent backpack. But before Red could see any confirmation, the rude roaring of the train came, and the man's reply ended up as a 'no'.

Red was rather disheartened but he knew that some things were not meant to be. He nodded in understanding, and the man soon slung his back onto his shoulder and walked forward.

He wordlessly said his goodbyes, and so did Red.

The trainer then watched the train's windows, and soon, the man was walking down the train carriage. It did not take long for him to spot an empty, window seat and Red observed the man placing his backpack down.

Then he flung down the hood and unzipped his jacket.

Red's mind went blank, his brain not fully registering what he was seeing. When it did, he recklessly threw himself forward, standing at the very edge of the platform, only mere feet away from the man.

His snow was melting, the crystals disappearing, fleeting, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the warmth.

The man went stunned, and Red frantically unwound his scarf. He did not have to think, he did not have to plan, because all along, deep inside himself, he already knew what he wanted to say.

It was such a simple phrase, for a friend long-lost, for a friend now found.

"I missed you!" He shouted with all of his might. And after barely balancing himself, he locked eyes with his green ones, which were wide open in shock. The train moved forward, and throughout, their gaze never left each other, and it was until it started to pick up speed, that Red lost him.

His knees went weak, and he fell onto his bottom, panting, gasping, crying and he watched the train that left as quickly as it had arrived.

Tears streamed down his face, and even though he knows that these three words were insufficient to contain all of what he wanted to tell him, to him, at that very moment, this was enough.

'I missed you' was enough.

* * *

 _I'll wait for you no matter where._

 _I want to see you,_

 _Even if you're pretending, please hold this hand._

* * *

"Boarding?" The train conductor asked the young man sitting on the seats.

"... Sorry, no," Red answered, sending an apologetic smile.

The train door closed, and the train left, and he was once again, all alone for the third time. He counted the hours he waited. About five hours, he said to himself in his head. It was not long, and it was not short either.

He was doing something really unnecessary right now, he noted to himself. The chance of Green making his way back here was nearly nonexistent and he was probably doing this to satisfy himself, to give himself a bit of hope. Just maybe, he hoped, that Green would come back for him.

And as if a direct denial towards his wishes, the weather took a turn for the worse, hailstones soon pelting down onto the roof of the platform, furious and slowly picking up speed.

He'll wait a bit longer.

The hail worsened.

He'll wait a bit longer.

The wind howled.

He'll...

"Boarding?"

He looked up, tired eyes staring at the train conductor.

"You have a ticket, don't cha?" The conductor asked.

He nodded.

"Well, you should board this train before you get stuck in this weather, sonny."

He said nothing, and stared into the distance, into the white landscape that had already wiped away all sights of the train tracks.

"... Alright,"

He stood up, headed towards the train door, and passed the conductor his ticket.

Perhaps, Green Oak never wanted to see him.

Perhaps.

* * *

 _But crystals get further from my reach,_

 _The more I wish for it._

* * *

Tourists strolled about, all taking pictures of the Kalos skyline and talking animatedly among their little groups. Friends, lovers, and family held hands. Everyone has somebody.

Meanwhile, the man leaned against the railings on the top of Prism Tower, hands curling up over the bars as he watched the nightlights blinking, spots of snow crystals falling blurring the supposedly bright scenery.

Such a breathtaking view, but all he could muster, was a sigh.

Can I give up? He thought to himself. He was so tired. So, so tired. Years of hate and unforgiveness and the distance between them suffocated him. He could have chosen not to die back then on the mountain, but at this moment, he could feel himself dying bit by bit.

Giving up now might as well be killing his own heart.

He could blame Green Oak, for tearing them apart in the first place. Or he could blame himself, for not daring to reach out to fix their relationship after the final match.

 _"I hate you so much,"_

The words were still ringing in his head, even now, and truly, he was sorry. He was sorry for not noticing Green's loneliness. He was sorry for not standing up for himself, to tell Green off, to make both of them realize how childish they are in reality. He was sorry for giving up all those years ago.

There's no one to blame, really. They brought this to themselves. They broke themselves apart.

Their friendship that was so easily broken, like snow crystals.

He released his hold on the rails, stuffing his hands into his pockets. It has been nine months, and nine months was enough time for self-reflection and wandering.

 _Where will he go?_

He was so aimless that it frightened him.

 _Where is his direction?_

"You were my best friend," he murmured. "Why can't we go anywhere together?"

Emptiness was all he could feel. He could have a direction, he could go places, but his heavy heart would not let him.

He so wanted to hold Green's hand and go to the other side of the earth.

He so wanted to pick up all the broken crystals they have left behind and lead himself back to him.

To the man who was once his best friend.

"I can't give up," He whispered, just loud enough for himself to hear.

He was ready to return to Kanto. He was ready to forgive Green Oak. He was ready to hold his hand.

Whether Green Oak is ready to do so, is another matter. And even if the man is not, Red is not going to give up.

Not ever again.

* * *

 _I want you to believe me,_

 _I'll come and get you._

 _Someday,_

 _Someday._

* * *

He walked down the streets of Saffron, feeling oddly warm, but he ignored the discomfort as he looked around the town. He had heard from his mother that Green was in the city, but there was no sign of him.

"Hey, I saw the Viridian City's Gym Leader just now."

He picked up that bit of the conversation, and heart thumping, he turned around, hand patting onto the shoulder of the person he just walked past.

"... Could you tell me where he is?"

When he received his answer, Red muttered a hurried thanks, and he could feel himself soaring while he dashed down the path, red eyes trying to spot his familiar figure.

Then he saw him.

Green eyes, light brown hair, and an unforgettable smirk tilted on his lips.

A surge of emotions rushed through his mind and barely holding onto his rationality, he knows he must not make his appearance here in the middle of a busy street, not when he is still reported as the missing Kanto ex-champion.

He picked up his bearings and firmly walked towards Green. He stretched his arm, his hand so close to his, yet so far.

"... Hey, would you like to have a battle with me?"

And when Green Oak met him face to mask, he could feel his cold tears threatening to flow down.

Green looked up and down, and Red so wanted to tell him that he is Red, the boy who wants to return to how it was.

But fear constricted him. He was scared. Scared of rejection. Scared that Green had grown to hate him even more than before. Scared that Green had already long given up on returning to how it was.

So he'll hide behind that mask. Just a little while longer.

"Aren't you warm in those layers?"

Red flinched, surprised at the man's words, but he finally noticed his own outfit that was incredibly unfit for such a hot day.

"I've been cold for the longest time," he murmured as he took off his coat, his protection. "I never noticed."

They took their places, both readying their Pokéballs, and as he stood across the public arena, memories of those days when they challenged each other attacked him, and he felt his longing weighing him down more than ever.

"I won't go easy on you," Green said.

Red felt the corners of his eyes hot.

"... You never did," he choked.

Green appeared surprised for a moment, but he threw out his Pokéball a second later, signaling the start of the match.

And they battled, the adrenaline rushing through Red like a train, and he could sense the familiarity in Green's moves, his tactics, and his battle style. It is so familiar, so comforting, and it pains him.

"Don't go easy on me," he heard Green said.

He stared at the man, who was staring back at him. Like that snowy day, that train station, that expression of shock and confusion.

And longing.

He knows.

Red could feel time running just a little faster. Away from his crystal world, his world of stagnation and loneliness.

"... I never did," he gasped.

* * *

 _I want to hold you one more time before you disappear_.

* * *

The battle ended as a draw.

Red tentatively walked to the middle of the arena, standing right before Green, hand reaching out towards him. He could feel his fingers trembling, his cold palms waiting for him to hold.

Green held it. Tightly.

"... That was a good battle." He barely got the words out, his eyes fixated on Green. Releasing his grip from him, Red felt something inside him hurting just a little. He was afraid again. Afraid that this will be the last time he'll ever get to see Green Oak, to hold his hand.

"Yes, yes, it was."

 _Don't leave._ He prayed desperately in his head. _Please._

"And I believe that this belongs to you." Green then said, his hand taking something out from his pocket. The man grabbed Red's hand, placing the object into his palm, and folding his fingers in tightly as if the object was so incredibly precious.

When Red caught a glimpse of it, he felt all of his fears dissipating almost instantly.

The Viridian Gym Badge.

He knows. He knows what it means. It is a sign of acceptance, a sign of connection.

"The usual place," he whispered, just loud enough for himself to hear, for Green Oak to hear. He could feel all the snow inside him breaking apart, melting, vanishing.

He quickly left, and after squeezing himself out of the crowd, he ran, heart soaring, snow crystals glowing.

His winter is ending.

Spring is coming.

* * *

 _We met each other beyond all time_

 _So now how do we do?_

 _Can we make it work?_

* * *

Petals are falling down, fading away.

The young boy, now all grown up, sat on the unstable seats, right in the middle of the moss-infested concrete, and the empty train tracks. Nostalgia permeated the air, and Red breathed in the taste of spring that emanated silently around him. Ferns and hanging plants were haphazardly about, surrounding the man, the boy who claimed his usual spot.

"My name is Green."

The snow crystals were melting, gathering, returning.

"... My name is Red."

Green Oak hunched over, teardrops dripping down, and Red willed himself to not cry. Not yet. Not now.

"I hate you," Green said.

Red closed his eyes.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." The man on the opposite platform gasped.

"... I know," He replied. "So do I."

"I hate you."

"... I hate you too."

"And, I'm sorry,"

Red looked up, at the man who was still trembling. He had been lonely. And Green had been lonely.

They both had been lonely.

"... I'm sorry too."

His eyes were wet, tears precariously hanging by the edge, and he locked his gaze onto Green Oak. It has been a long time since he looked at the man straight in the eye, and the moment he did, he knew that Green Oak wanted the same thing as he wanted since a long time ago.

It was just one simple sentence.

One sentence to fix everything. To forget all the hurt, the pain, and the loneliness.

"Can we... go back to how it was?"

His heart tightened, while Green, as prideful as he is, succumbed to his tears, to his longing, the man burying his face in his hands while the words, "Yes, yes, yes." were mixed within his tears.

A tear rolled down Red's cheeks, his chest filled with an inexplicable feeling of joy, of bliss, of regrets.

"I missed you too," Green shouted.

It was a simple phrase, for a friend long-lost, for a friend now found.

Red widened his eyes, hands numbing but his body was already leaping down the platform and dashing forward. Up the steps, all the way to Green Oak.

He held his hand.

His tears were now flowing down without reservations because finally, he found his direction, he found his solace, he found his best friend.

He'll never let it go again.

* * *

 _This genuine warmth,_

 _Please stay forever._

* * *

 **The End**

* * *

 **Author's Note*:**

 **I'm feeling really accomplished by writing an additional chapter for this, and it has also given me a lot of comforts while I was writing it. Friendship is fragile, and somewhere along the way, each and every one of us has lost a friend, be it due to circumstances, or ugly human emotions. I thought I should address this from Red's PoV, and dig in deeper into the themes presented in the one-shot.**

 **Again, this story is inspired by a song by BTS, of the same title as this installment. It has lyrics that resonates well with Spring Day (most of it, at least), and while I do not really fancy the song itself, the lyrics were enough to get me hooked onto it.**

 **Do review/PM me on what you think! Thank you to all those who reviewed for the original one-shot! I'll do my best to deliver more of such stories.**

 **As for the epilogue, wait for it ;)**


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